Waking up from a blow to the head always sucks. Even when you're the Ultimate. Shadow distinctly felt that some noise had woken him, yet he couldn't heave his way out of the murky recesses of his subconscious. Groaning, he rolled onto his side, feeling the cold floor swish against his fur.
After a few seconds he remembered what had knocked him out, and woke the rest of the way rapidly. Raising himself up on one elbow, he looked frantically around. Rouge was nowhere in sight—and neither was the dead griffin. How long had he been out?! Sitting up, he squinted at a nearby wall clock, and sighed when he saw it was fifteen past two AM. He'd been down less than half an hour.
Suddenly a familiar roar of gunfire sounded several floors below him. Shadow sprang to his feet and hurtled downstairs.
On the third floor, just outside one of the training rooms, he found a crowd of agents gathering behind a corner in the hallway, despite the late hour. Many of them were armed.
"What's going on?" barked Shadow.
"Your crazy robot's fighting some kind of weird cloud!" one of the agents shouted back. "What gives? You know he's already gotten in trouble for destroying the hallways before!"
"I know; I'll get him," gritted Shadow, skidding around the corner without even checking if the coast was clear.
The hallway was indeed pretty close to earning the glorious title of "destroyed." The walls were pockmarked with gaping bullet holes and scorch marks, the nearest window was shattered to nothing, the floor was broken and plowed up, and even the ceiling was looking the worse for wear. Meanwhile, Omega was standing in the center of the hall, turning around slowly, gun arm raised. He seemed to be scanning the hallway for something that he didn't see.
"Omega, are you crazy?" demanded Shadow. "You were warned about tearing up the hallways."
"I saw the mist creature Fiolet," replied Omega, in the clipped mechanical tones of "total destruction mode." "It could not be permitted to wander the halls of the Guardian Unit of Nations; therefore I opened fire upon it."
"Well if it was in its mist form, you couldn't have hurt it anyway," Shadow growled, peeved. Omega's "See Enemy" terminal was doubtless connected directly and exclusively to his "Fire At Enemy" terminal. "So I suppose it got away?"
"It seems probable. I was firing at point-blank range, but the mist somehow crept around behind me and disappeared. The rapidity of its escape was astonishing."
"Yeah, whatever." Shadow waved impatiently. "That's not all that's disappeared. Have you seen Rouge coming by here?"
"I have not seen her since midnight."
"Dammit," muttered Shadow. "She must have—"
There was an abrupt electronic POW!, and Shadow jumped back as geysers of sparks suddenly flew from Omega's innards. The robot clattered into a limp "powered-down" position, his eyes dead and dark.
" . . . Omega?"
No response. Shadow took a tentative step closer—then stumbled back as a thick purple slime suddenly spewed from all of Omega's air grilles. It was like those campy horror movies where ghost slime comes gushing from someone's mouth, only it was real. The ooze splattered across the floor, but instead of staying put it joined together and began to slither along the tiles, churning and bubbling, until it suddenly whirled into a smoky purple cloud and began to waft swiftly away, hissing.
Teeth bared, Shadow lunged after it. A Chaos Spear flew from his hand, but only plowed a fresh trench into the flooring. The mist squirmed its way out the broken window and was gone.
Shadow stood at the window and swore vehemently for a few seconds straight, thumping his fist against the windowframe for emphasis. When he'd worn off some of his fury, he turned back to the dead robot standing in the hallway. Eye sockets dark, arms dangling loosely, head slung slightly back, he vaguely resembled a skeleton hung in some sinister classroom. An occasional confetti-burst of sparks danced up from his joints, fizzing.
"And we all thought you'd be immune," murmured Shadow.
He only stuck around long enough to put Omega safely away, then he bolted out to look for Rouge. It was three AM, nobody should be around . . . but there was no time to waste. He Chaos Controlled from place to place, rousing the others. They were sleepy, confused, bewildered, sometimes unwilling, but when he told them what was happening, they immediately awoke.
"So she was bit," said Sonic, the last few traces of sleepiness fading from his eyes. "What's changed?"
Shadow shrugged, not making eye contact.
"She's become violent."
"Sure looks that way," murmured Sonic, glancing at the gash on Shadow's forehead. Shadow felt his breath tighten slightly, even though he told himself there was no reason the others would suspect that. At least not yet.
"But that doesn't make sense," said Knuckles, tightening an extra layer of bandages over his arm. It was healing well, but protecting it in combat would still be wise. "It's not like her biggest trait normally was being non-violent."
"I would have guessed she'd lose her smarts, or something," Amy piped up. "Or her nerve. Or maybe loving jewels—or wait, would that count as a bad trait?"
"It's greed, so yeah," said Knuckles bluntly. "Honestly, Fio would probably have to go pretty far down the list of her top traits before he found one 'good' enough to take. And I'm saying that in the nicest possible way, but . . . "
"Is that what happened, though?" Sonic nudged the conversation back on track. "Did she lose her smarts, and it made her act like a wild animal instead?"
Shadow hesitated. It would be so easy to just say "yes," and keep the truth hidden . . . but the others would probably find out the real change anyway, and better they heard about it instead of experiencing it.
"It's a bit more unusual. She—she may show an interest in blood now."
"Wh . . . what?"
Shadow gave in.
"This was not something anyone was supposed to know, but Rouge had very little tolerance for blood. Bluntly put, she was terrified of it. Paper cuts and cherry punch made her queasy, and it was not unheard-of for her to black out in more severe cases. So now she's a vampire bat."
The others stared at him silently. He fully expected them to not believe him, so he was quite surprised when Knuckles' eyes suddenly widened in understanding.
"Right after the fire on Angel Island . . . she wouldn't look at me. I thought she was angry with me—but it was because my arm was bleeding, wasn't it?!"
"And when Sonic was bitten, and we were drawing a blood sample, she left all of a sudden!" whispered Silver. "You—I remember, you made that strange excuse for her to leave!"
Shadow's glance flickered away, his expression shifting inscrutably.
"It was not a quality she was proud of, obviously. Even with Team Dark's non-lethal missions, there was sometimes bloodshed involved. It became habitual for us to provide her with chances to make a graceful exit."
He cast the others a look oddly like defiance, oddly close to shame. God forbid they should think he was weak enough to care, because if they did their blood would be on their own heads. Wisely, they didn't comment.
"My question is," said Tails at last, "why didn't you just give her the antidote?"
Shadow sighed angrily; he had hoped this line of questioning wouldn't come up at all, let alone so soon.
"I did. Apparently, it only works after the transformation has taken place."
"Well then, why didn't you just let her have yours after she transformed?" pressed Tails. "Based on previous reactions, she should have gone straight for it!"
"I . . . didn't have mine with me." Shadow seethed internally. He hated admitting to any kind of error, he was unused to talking so much, and the wound on his forehead was stinging persistently—it was taking an unusually long time to close. The others' judgmental looks didn't help.
"If you weren't so convinced of your own invincibility," said Blaze coldly, "we would not have this problem now."
Shadow gave her an equally cold look, warning her that he was reaching the end of his patience. Blaze sniffed quietly, unintimidated, and for a moment a grim silence fell.
"It's hard to believe, though," murmured Amy at length. "I thought Rouge wasn't scared by anything."
"She isn't. Nothing from insects to skeletons to approaching death frightens her, only blood. I always assumed she had seen something disturbing involving it when she was a child; her mother was a vampire bat."
"Wait—y-you mean there are real vampires who . . . ?" Amy looked horrified.
"No. Normal modern-day vampire bats are comparatively respectable members of society. They are known for being deceitful, unscrupulous, and promiscuous, but they are not violent. Their taste for blood is only supplementary to a normal diet, and limited exclusively to dumb animals—Flickies, for example."
A barely stifled sigh of relief seemed to run through the entire group.
"So that means she won't try to . . . you know . . . attack us?" ventured Knuckles. Shadow grimaced.
"I said normal vampire bats. She's . . . not normal."
In terms of curing Rouge, there was the minor detail of not having a clue where to look for her. They asked around, but no one had seen a scruffy-looking violent bat. Omega might have run some kind of scan for her, but the robot's insides were currently an electronics omelet. Shadow, however, suspected Rouge would have headed for the forest near G.U.N. HQ, to escape detection, gain a wealth of hiding and ambush locations, and hunt small prey. He did not advise going in after her.
"It would be suicide," he said, with a quiet tone that invited no argument. "She is in her element there. Entering blind would merely make you vulnerable targets."
"Then what do you propose we do?" asked Espio sharply.
"I will go in," shrugged Shadow. "She didn't kill me the first time. That suggests that—" He broke off abruptly. "At any rate, I will be safe."
"But searching all alone, you might never find her!" protested Amy. "You have to let us help!"
"And you can. Split into pairs or threes, and spread out along the edges of the forest. Do not go in, but remain alert, watch out for each other, and prepare to confront her if she tries to bolt from the forest or attack you. Understood?"
Nods all around. Normally Sonic was reflexively in charge, but now Shadow was the one who best understood the situation. Nobody questioned his orders—all save one.
"I'm going in too," said Knuckles calmly. "I owe it to her. I'm good at jungles, so I can handle a forest. And if she didn't kill you, she won't kill me."
Shadow turned his full attention upon the defiant echidna. Their eyes locked silently.
"You think so," said Shadow, half-questioning, half-stating. His voice was unemotional, but below the unruffled surface a nest of demons was thrashing to life. Irritation, contempt, pride, mistrust, maybe . . . maybe something even baser and more selfish. He hid his demons well, but not so well that Knuckles couldn't see them. After all, he was hiding so many of the same.
Perhaps it was this awareness of shared sins that made them surmountable. After a second of silent power struggle, a light in Knuckles' eyes shifted imperceptibly. When he spoke, it was with no challenge, only honesty.
"Yeah. I do think so."
Shadow's expression softened in response, and his reply was unprecedentedly gentle, almost amused.
"Echidna . . . how do I put this delicately? . . . you probably taste better."
Knuckles' eyebrows rose, and his eyes slid aside in hesitant thought, but for only a moment.
"For her . . . I'll take that risk. Somebody's got to be bait."
Shadow startled the others with a soft, approving laugh.
"All right. At least let me provide you with a bit of tech and advice, to level your playing field against her at least somewhat."
"Sure. Thanks," Knuckles nodded curtly and swung into step behind Shadow, towards HQ. The others exchanged bewildered glances. At length Silver spoke.
"What just happened there? . . . "
"Nothing we'll ever understand," replied Sonic ruefully.
Still, maybe they did. Somehow they couldn't shake the feeling that some kind of confrontation had just blazed, sputtered, and ended in mutual respect, all without a word spoken.
"I'm not sure if she's still using echolocation," said Shadow, plunking a bulky contraption into Knuckles' arms. "But if she is, this should help. Normally G.U.N. uses it to detect enemy frequencies or spy on conversations, but it'll also pick up ultrasound in the range of echolocation."
"And what about you?" asked Knuckles, slipping the included headset over his dreadlocks.
"I can hear in that range myself. Now. Do you know what this is?"
Knuckles surveyed the little electronic device Shadow was holding up, then shook his head.
"It's a taser," said Shadow. "It delivers a shock to its target, and you may have to use it if she attacks you."
"I have my two fists," said Knuckles proudly. "I don't need any fancy electronics doing the work for me."
"You currently have one properly working fist. Also, if she is close enough for you to punch her, she is probably also close enough to rip you to bits before you even know what hit you."
Knuckles still looked resentful, but he accepted the taser and cast a perfunctory eye at the instructions. Shadow was pretty sure he wouldn't have to warn him to use it only when absolutely necessary.
After a few pointers about what to expect from an extremely vicious vampire bat with the advantage of surprise, the two of them headed out. They passed Team Chaotix lurking dutifully around the forest's edge and waved, but didn't stop.
The night was dark and cool already, but the forest intensified that. As Shadow and Knuckles stepped among the trees, the air seemed to grow thick and still, almost stagnant. Low-growing gorse and twigs crackled under their feet softly, and a subliminal whisper seemed to rush over their heads, as if millions of tiny ghosts were fleeing through the leaves at the Mobians' approach. Crickets and other night-creatures prattled away eerily, their voices muffled by acres of moss and ivy.
Shadow cast Knuckles an appraising glance, and was pleased to see the echidna's face was impassively alert. Apparently he neither over- nor under estimated the gravity of the situation; it would be best for all concerned if Knuckles kept his head but avoided excessive bravado.
Suddenly a high, echoing cry drifted through the trees, a keening, pulsing trill. Knuckles' eyes widened at the new sound.
"Is that . . . "
"Yes, that's her," said Shadow quietly. "She's searching."
The call came again, and they stood motionless, listening. The split-second barrage of compressed notes seemed perfectly tuned to raise hairs on end, fierce and lonely and ever so hungry.
"And she can actually see with that?" Knuckles stage-whispered, as if they were in some kind of nature documentary tracking an exotic endangered animal. In a sense, maybe they were.
"Only very basic obstacle recognition, normally," Shadow whispered back. "Her call seems to have changed now, though . . . the pulse is a lot stronger and deeper than her usual one. The transformation must have improved her sonar capabilities."
"And you get to hear that every day," murmured Knuckles, with the faintest light of envy in his eyes.
Shadow shrugged and nodded towards the distant source of the sound.
"We should split up and see if we can't catch her in a pincer movement. You circle around to the right, I'll go left."
Knuckles nodded and set off easily through the trees, his step never faltering despite the dark night and uneven forest floor. Shadow set out in his own direction.
Rouge's echolocation pulse rang through the forest several more times in the next five minutes, bouncing confusingly among the trees. After a few minutes there came a different cry, one of triumph and exertion. There followed a series of the most unearthly screeches, in and out of the ultrasound range, and distant sounds of scuffle. Shadow bolted towards the commotion as fast as he could, but it seemed to be over before he got there; he heard a final yelp and hiss of displeasure, then a rattle of retreating wings.
Bolting into a clearing, Shadow found Knuckles sprawled back on one elbow, panting. The bandages on his arm were torn to ribbons, hanging off him like mop strands, and fresh scrapes and scratches were blazed all over his body.
"What happened?" asked Shadow, dropping to a crouch beside him.
"I found her, she jumped me," said Knuckles breathlessly. "Went straight for my arm—I had to whack her back pretty badly. Told you I didn't need that stinking taser."
"Didn't she go for the antidote?"
"Uh-uh. She looked pretty interested in it, but I think her plan was 'rip out echidna's throat first, then drink antidote'."
"Dammit," muttered Shadow. "I was afraid that would happen. Blood-lust is strong stuff." He glanced at Knuckles as an afterthought. "You all right?"
"I'm great," grunted Knuckles, sitting up and gazing in the direction Rouge had fled. "But sweet Mobius, you didn't tell me she'd changed that much. She's . . . she's . . . "
"Crazy?" offered Shadow sardonically. Knuckles looked away hastily, the hint of red on his muzzle indicating that wasn't quite the word he'd had in mind. Shadow caught on and chuckled, half in mockery, half in understanding.
"Ah. That too."
And thinking back to what he'd seen of her right after she transformed, he couldn't disagree. She was really quite savagely beautiful. A pity that it had to come with violently murderous tendencies . . .
Standing up, he helped Knuckles to his feet.
"You should get those scrapes treated. Also, if her approach is to kill the antidote-bearer before taking the antidote, we're going to need a new plan."
A/N: Forgot to mention: Rouge's half-vampire heritage is derived from a long-running comic that used to be on DeviantArt, and which was partially portrayed in a YouTube video as well. I forget the name and artist, and it seems to have disappeared off the internet somehow, but that's where the idea of Rouge's mom being a vampire bat came from.
In my own little elaboration, I pin Rouge's dad as a fruit bat, and her mom as actually only three-quarters vampire. Rouge's great-grandpa was a fishing bat instead, diluting the "vampire" bloodline a bit (and bequeathing to Rouge a natural talent for catching fish, but that's beside the point. :P).